


A New Perspective

by captainleo



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainleo/pseuds/captainleo
Summary: Jim spends his summers away from the city on a quaint, ocean-side town to escape the rigors of his life as a big-city artist. He has his own studio and gallery and his friends own the coffee shop across the street. Just when he finds himself needing inspiration, a new face appears in town and Jim falls a bit harder than he expected.





	1. One

 

Light flooded the street. The air was crisp and the slight scent of rain from the night before was lingering on the pavement. The center of the town was quaint, especially on Sunday mornings. Jim strolled lazily down the brick sidewalk, enjoying the feeling of a cool summer day before almost anyone else had even left their homes. He could taste the salt from the ocean on his tongue and a small breeze tousled his hair and light linen shirt. Days like these reminded him why he spent the summers out of the city. It wasn’t that hard to forget but reveling in a perfect June morning made it even more difficult to think of a crowded city, small apartment and even smaller office.

So, he decided pointedly, that he wouldn’t think about that until he had to. He had another two full months in the bliss of his oceanside town where every day was perfect, and everyone was happy.

A small bell chimed above his head as he pushed the old wooden door open. He was greeted by two of his favorite faces on the island: Nyota and Pavel.

“Good morning Jim!” The young kid behind the counter had the brightest smile around. “Nyota is almost done with your order.”

“Already? You haven’t even technically opened, Ms. Nyota,” Jim said in mock surprise as he leaned on the pastry display case. The tall, beautiful woman behind the counter smiled warmly and handed his usual order—a plain bagel with cream cheese, a side of strawberries and one of Nyota’s famous blueberry muffins—over the case.

“Anything for our favorite customer.”

“What if I was thinking about ordering something different today?” He said tossing a quartered strawberry into his mouth.

“Something different?” Pavel piped up from the coffee machines.

“Were you?” Nyota quipped right back, semi-ignoring Pavel’s naivety.

“Of course not.” Jim moved to one of the classic barstools, so he could chat idly with the two as they prepped for their day. Soon, customers began coming in and out and Jim greeted each one with a smile. It was a small town, everyone knew everyone, and Jim, if a bit begrudgingly, was a local celebrity. He had opened a studio across the street from Nyota’s coffeeshop three summers ago. He had wanted a quiet space to paint and draw; he wanted a place to work on all the projects he didn’t have time to do during the year. He was an established artist in New York and the firm he worked at was commissioned for some of the most high-profile clients in the world. The work, he loved, but he could do without the deadlines, attitudes and egos of his clients and coworkers. Collaboration between artists could be amazing, but sometimes it was more hassle than it was worth.

During the first summer, he escaped to do his own thing. One day he showed Nyota his work and she asked to hang one of his paintings in the shop. Quickly, everyone in the small town took notice and began asking about the painting: who did it, where could they get one and how much did it cost? If he was being honest, he hadn’t even planned on selling the work he did, but if the interest was there, why not? He converted half of his studio to a gallery and opened it to the public. If anything, he enjoyed the people that floated in and struck up conversation. Mostly it was about him and his work, but he learned about them in return and by the end of that first summer he knew just about everyone in the town by their first name. There were people from all over that came to the small town—out of towners, off-worlders, and people whose families had had been here since the town was settled. Everyone seemed to all be looking for the same thing here: solace from their daily routines.

“So, Jim? Got anything new cooking in that studio of yours?” Jim’s closest friend on the island, Leonard, had taken up his post beside him. A plate of breakfast had been placed in front of them and Jim stole a grape from the pile of fruit earning him a cocked eyebrow and slight frown.

“Not really. Just the usual, landscapes and whatnot,” Jim sighed. He’d been feeling stuck lately, not quite sure what he was looking for.

“Well what else is there to paint?” Leonard grouched, though good-naturedly. He would pretend not to ‘understand’ art, citing his medical nature making him blind to creativity. Jim knew it was a front. He had come into he studio one day just talking to Jim and looking around at the paintings hung on the wall. Slowly, he began asking astute questions about color and composition, but when Jim asked how he knew that he got a grumpy response and the end of a conversation. Every now and then Leonard would do something similar, but Jim decided not to press him about it.

“Well, _people_ , for one thing, Bones. I haven’t done much portraiture or figures lately,” he mused.

“Don’t get any bright ideas. One copy of this mug is enough for everyone,” Bones said, gesturing to his face.

Jim laughed brightly. “Don’t worry, I don’t think you could stay still long enough for me to even get a decent sketch.” He tapped the leather-bound book on the counter. Leonard grabbed it and began to thumb through the pages. It was filled with simple sketches of various subjects: a steaming coffee cup, Nyota smiling with her hand resting on her cheek, Hikaru—the owner of the flower shop/farmer’s market in town—among a pile of flowers, a seagull.

“Got that right, kid. You’d have more luck getting Nyota to sit for you.”

“He’s right, you’d be a perfect subject,” Jim put his hands up, pretending to frame her in his stretched fingers.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she said, filling Jim’s cup from the pot. “But, if you have any other paintings for the store, you know I’m always in the market.”

“Speaking of, I actually do have something for that. Let me go grab it; it’s down in the studio.” Jim said, sliding off the stool. He pulled the door open and jogged across the street. It was just about the time he usually opened the gallery, so he popped the lock and just left the door open. The screen door would be plenty to keep the bugs out, and he would be back soon enough.

He hadn’t even been gone long enough to have his coffee stop steaming. He stood back from the counter and turned the canvas around to face the awaiting faces of Nyota, Pavel, Leonard and all the patrons in the shop.

“What do you think?”

“Oh, Jim, it’s perfect!” Nyota came around the counter wiping her hands on her apron. “I know just where to put it.”

She walked behind Jim and scooted the chairs to make room before waving Jim over. He handed her the painting and she slid it onto the nail already pushed into he wall. Another of his paintings had hung there, but a patron last week had insisted on buying it. Jim and Nyota stepped back to observe it.

“It looks good there, kid. A perfect fit if you ask me,” Leonard had come to stand beside them.

“You think? Is it too big?”

“No, I like the size. I was going to see if you would do something like this, but I had been a bit afraid to ask. I know you come here to get away from commissions. How much for this, so I don’t have to beat off any customers who want to take it off my hands?” Nyota looked thrilled as she took in the painting. It was of the coffeeshop exterior, as viewed from Jim’s studio windows. The small grassy hill was dotted with flowers and the walkway up to the front door looked just as inviting as it did in real life.

“Please, you supply me with breakfast daily and don’t charge me half as much as you should. It would only be repayment,” he said.

“Jim, that’s too much. Supplies alone, this must have cost—"

“Please,” he said putting up a hand to stop her. “Consider it a gift then. I love this place and I wanted to show you what I see every day. It’s yours.”

“Fine, Jim. Thank you,” she said, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He returned the hug before smiling back at Pavel.

“You like it?”

“Oh yes! Jim it is magnificent!” Jim laughed at the overenthusiasm.

Leonard smirked, “Don’t give him a bigger head than he already has, kid.”

“Gee, thanks, Bones.” Jim downed the rest of his coffee and stole another grape from Leonard’s plate before saying his goodbyes to the coffeeshop for the morning. He’d stop in later, for sure, but for now he was itching to get to the studio. There was work to be done.

As he left the shop and started for his place, he could see an outline of a figure in the window. He pushed the screen door open and took in the man perusing his artwork. He wasn’t a local, that was for sure. Jim had never seen him before. He would’ve remembered the severe stature. The man wasn’t threatening, nor did Jim find him intimidating, but he caught himself standing a bit straighter than he usually did. He was handsome—that was obvious—his dark features seemed to pop out of the light walls and generally pale palette Jim favored for his landscapes. Jim tried not to stare as that seemed the opposite of welcoming.

“Morning! Can I help you with anything?” Jim greeted cheerily. He moved to the front window, his easels and paints neatly tucked in the bay. Nyota’s painting had just been finished last night and he had left to go home late vowing to clean up the next morning.

“Do you own this place?”

“Yes, I do. My name’s Jim.” Normally he would extend a hand, but he felt that would be inappropriate for present company. He remembered learning something in school about Vulcans not being a particularly touchy species. Not that he paid much attention in school, but every now and then useful information resurfaced.

“Are you the artist?”

“Yeah, all these are mine. Those are unfinished, mostly,” he said gesturing to the pile the stranger was filing through. He treated each canvas with a delicate hand, Jim noticed, careful not to let the frames clack together or the paint of one surface scratch the back of another.

The man hummed a confirmation and added nothing more to the conversation. Jim felt a pang of disappointment but brushed it aside. He busied himself with tidying the window seat and moving the supplies back over the studio section. The whole space was one large, open room. He had put dividing shelves down the center to store paint, brushes and other various supplies. One side he kept the paintings from finished to in progress, the other was the studio space. It had decently high ceilings and lots of beautiful natural light. The light wood floors reflected golden light throughout the studio during the morning. The entire back wall was made up of windows that looked out over the beach below. He loved coming early in the morning, before even Nyota had opened her shop, and watching the sunrise. Sometimes he would paint, other times he just enjoyed it.

He set about taking inventory of his stock. During his last painting he realized he was running low on some of his well-loved colors. Some brushes needed replacing as well, and he figured he would have ride into the mainland soon to restock. Jim tried to focus but he found himself glancing up at the stranger on the other side of the barrier. He hadn’t said anything beyond their first interaction. He hadn’t even made an indication that he liked what he saw or not. Slowly, he made his way around the entire gallery taking in each painting, not once even acknowledging Jim’s presence. Even when he chastised himself for staring and tried to return to his list, he found his mind wandering to the man on the other side of the shelves. _What was he thinking? Does he like my work? Who is he?_

A full forty minutes of the Vulcan perusing and Jim furtively watching and wondering about him passed before the door clacked open and Leonard’s voice filled the studio. Jim jumped.

“Hey kid, are you gonna help me fix my boat today or what?”

“Christ, Bones you scared the shit out of me coming in like that. And I thought you were going to ask Scotty to help you fix it. He’s real handy with that stuff.” Jim couldn’t help but glance over to the gallery’s only patron. Nothing.

“Yeah, well. The old sea dog is away for another two weeks or so, according to Pavel. Rat bastard. I want to use my boat before the season’s up. I’m figuring between the two of us we can figure it out. I don’t think it’s anything major.” Leonard, as per the usual, had made himself right at home. He plopped down on the ledge of shelves and picked through the bin of paint Jim had been sorting through.

“You better hope so. Last time you asked me to help you fix something we had to call the plumber, remember?” Jim laughed a little at the memory as he continued to rifle through the paints. Occasionally he would pick one out and write down the brand and color name.

“Don’t remind me. So, what do you say? You free today? We can work on it this afternoon and grab a drink after at the bar.” Leonard handed him an almost empty tube of white.

“You working today?” Jim scrawled down the color name.

“Nah, the kid is pretty much runnin’ the place now. She’s damn good at it, too. It never looked so good when I was behind the bar.”

“Well she’s your kid and, let’s face it, out of the two of you she’s got the better temperament for catering to the public.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right there. Joanna is really somethin’ else. She’s workin’ tonight, though so we can go stop by and say hi.”

Jim had fixed his gaze on the man in the gallery again. He was only half listening to Leonard now as he started to become lost in his head again.

“Kid!” A light smack and the loud tone shook him from his thoughts. He briefly made eye contact with the Vulcan before quickly turning back to his friend.

“What? Yeah, yeah sure. Sounds great Bones.”

“What are you…” Leonard glanced over his shoulder. He turned back with a lightly exasperated expression laced with playful questioning. Jim made a face back at him, a warning. They went back and forth communicating in silent expression, all the while Leonard making more pointed gestures toward the stranger. Jim shook his head, each time getting more desperate. Suddenly Leonard got a mischievous gleam to his eye and all but shouted, “So where are you from, stranger?”

Jim sucked in a breath and watched his friend get up and move over to the gallery.

“Originally, Vulcan, though I’ve been residing in the San Francisco area for work related engagements. My name is Spock.” The man placed the painting he had been holding down gently, back into the pile leaned against the wall.

“What brings you up here, Spock? Sorry for prying. This is a pretty small town and we get to know the regular residents well. Haven’t seen you around before, though.” Jim inwardly groaned at the thick southern drawl that Leonard spread on. Usually he saved this particular inflection for special occasions of either flirting or embarrassing Jim; in this case, it was definitely the latter.

“I was told I needed a vacation. This area was recommended to me by a colleague. I just arrived yesterday, and I will be staying for the duration of the summer.” Jim hung on every word from Spock’s mouth. His voice filled the studio and Jim loved the way it resonated off each surface. He had the sinking feeling he was getting way in over his head.

“Well this is the perfect place for that. Tell you what, me and my good friend Jim, here,” Leonard made a lazy, waving gesture in Jim’s direction, “are going to be going out for drinks later at my bar. Its just down the street, right on the main dock. Why don’t you come with us?”

The man seemed to consider this for a moment. “If I wouldn’t be intruding on previously made plans—”

Leonard cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Intruding? No such thing. Please. We’d love to get to know you, start acquainting you with our little island. Right Jim?” He slid a smug glance over to Jim.

“Of course. We’d love to have you.” Jim was _absolutely_ going to kill him later.

“I would be amenable that that. Is there a particular time you plan to meet?”

“What do you say, Jim? Around seven?” Another triumphant smile.

“Yeah, perfect.”

“Very well. I will see you both tonight, then.” Spock turned and left the studio with all the grace of a dancer. Jim, with none of that same grace, all but ran to the bay window and looked down the street after him. Making sure he was well out of earshot, he turned to Leonard.

“Bones, are you out of your damn mind? What the hell was _that_?”

“Never say I don’t do anything for you, kid.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jim dropped his hands dramatically to his hips.

“I saw the way you were looking at him. I just gave you the opportunity you were too shy to take.”

“I am _not_ shy,” he said defensively. “Plus, it’s not like he knows why you did that. It’s not like he’s gonna be thinking about me like that.”

“How long was he in here for before I came in?”

Jim felt an infuriating blush rise to his cheeks. He grabbed the basket of paint off the counter and crouched below the shelves definitely not hiding from Leonard.

“How. Long.”

“Forty minutes,” Jim grumbled quietly.

“Jim! At the very least he’s a big fan of your work and at the most…well, who the hell knows?” Leonard laughed before sighing and sitting on the counter above Jim. “Look, just don’t put any pressure on it and it’ll play out for better or worse.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” Jim muttered, but a trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Plus, I’ll be there for you, so what could go wrong?” Jim laughed out loud at that and soon both were smiling. Jim packed up and stuffed the list into his jeans pocket. He gestured to the door and followed Leonard out before locking up.

“We better get working on that boat of yours. Don’t want to be late tonight, right?” That earned Jim a smile and an arm slung around his shoulders as they walked off toward Leonard’s house.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Two

The evening was cool, and the sun hung low on the horizon. Jim looked out across the water and breathed a sigh of contentment. This was the type of night he came to town for. He leaned over the railing of the dock to peer into the murky water below. It was shallow enough to see the bottom; crabs scuttled around, and small fish darted around the algae covered posts.

“Anything interesting?” Bones’ gruff voice broke Jim from his thoughts. He hopped off the lower rung of the railing and took the beer bottle being offered to him.

“Nothing yet, just the usual.” They tapped their bottles together in a well-worn toast and leaned back taking in the bustling dockside bar. Since Jim had started coming to the island it had always been a town staple. It was the local hang out for the regulars and a welcoming attraction for those just stopping in. That night was no exception and the clinking of glasses and laughter could be heard from the pair’s spot on the dock.

Jim checked his watch and frowned slightly. 6:55pm.

“He’ll be here.” The quip came with a knowing, but smug smile.

Jim huffed and glared. “That’s not what I was doing,” he lied. “Besides, even if it was, which it wasn’t, he’s probably not going to come anyway. I’m sure he’s got much better things to do than to hang out at a bar with two strangers.”

“All I’m saying is that he’ll be here and all your fuss over what to wear will not have been for nothing.”

“Bones, now you’re just making things up. There was no _fuss_ over what to wear,” he started, but his friend was already ahead of him.

“I can read the texts if you want. I know fuss when I see it.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

They bickered for a while, enjoying each other’s company. Just as Jim was about to ask for another round, he caught sight of the man from his shop talking to Joanna in the bar. His heart flipped around in his chest and he cursed his overly-romantic nature.

“I don’t want to say I told you so…” Leonard began. He waved to Joanna and Spock as she pointed out to the dock. “…But I told you so,” he finished with a mischievous wink.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I hear you,” Jim dismissed him with a lazy hand wave, but his eyes kept trained to the figure walking across the dock. He was just as striking as earlier in his gallery, Jim thought absentmindedly.

“Hey stranger,” Bones called as Spock approached.

“It would be incorrect to refer to me as a stranger as we have previously met, though I do not believe you informed me of your name.”

“Doctor Leonard McCoy is the full title, but folks around here just call me Leonard.”

“Leonard then,” Spock nodded and turned his attention. “Jim.”

“Hello again,” Jim smiled.

“I see you’ve met my daughter, Joanna,” Leonard gestured up to the bar and the young woman carrying a tray with three drinks down the dock.

“Yes. She directed me to your current whereabouts.”

“She’s good at that,” Leonard smiled and walked past to take two of the drinks off her tray.

“What’s that dad?” Joanna placed the third drink on the railing nearest Spock.

“Just complimenting your people skills, darlin’.” She smiled and quirked her brow.

“Oh really? Like you’d know what good people skills looks like?” She was just as sharp-witted as her father. Jim liked that about her. She was a bright girl who was widely loved on the island. Not only was she the best bartender around, but she was the sweetest person the island had to offer.

“You got me there,” Leonard held up his hands in mock defense.

“I figured you two could use a few more out here while I brought Mr. Spock his drink.”

“Thank you, Joanna.”

“You’re very welcome. Need anything else?”

“We should be asking you that,” Jim indicated the bar. “It’s packed tonight.”

“It always is. Speaking of, I better get back there. Holler if you need anything!” She turned to leave. Once she was out of Spock’s line of sight, she turned to Jim, pointed to the Vulcan and gave a thumbs up in approval. Jim fought the urge to roll his eyes, but he smiled regardless before watching her bound back up the dock to the waiting customers.

“You mentioned previously that you own this establishment?” Spock asked, turning to follow Jim’s line of sight.

“Yes sir, I do; Joanna’s my daughter and she took over the place a couple of years ago and it’s been running smoother than ever. I reckon I’ll give it over to her someday, if she wants it,” Bones mused.

“It would be a lucrative and successful pursuit for her, should she choose it. Her ‘people skills’ as you said, are exemplary and fitting for this profession.”

“You talking sweet about my daughter, Mr. Spock?” Bones said, with no real malice. Jim shifted slightly, hoping the answer was no.

“Not at all. Merely observing her ability to make even those who are very out of place feel comfortable.” Jim let out a small breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

“Well, then, what do you think of our little town so far? It’s your first time here, right?” Leonard continued.

“Affirmative. This particular location is much different to the one which I am accustomed.”

“And which location is that?”

“San Francisco. I work in the Vulcan embassy there alongside my father.”

The conversation lazily moved topics as the sun set brilliantly over the water. The evening grew colder and the tide began to shift, slowly creeping up the dock’s pillars. Jim and Leonard grabbed the empty bottles and retreated to the warmth of the bar. Joanna greeted them and finished tending to the few patrons left.

“How was tonight, Jo?” Jim leaned over the bar to grab a handful of nuts and popped a couple in his mouth.

“Pretty good! The summer is just starting so it isn’t as busy as it will get. Seeing the regulars is always nice, though.” She wrung out a rag and began wiping the counters.

“That’s how it is at Nyota’s place, too. Everyone is starting to come back for the season. Each day a few more familiar faces come through the door.”

“What is ‘Nyota’s place’?” Spock tilted his head to catch Jim’s eye. He felt his chest tighten slightly at the movement. He had to squash the urge to roll his eyes at the feeling; he was starting to feel like a little kid with a crush.

“It’s a coffeeshop. Nyota is the woman that owns the place and she makes some of the best pastries and coffee I’ve ever had. Actually, its right across the street from my studio, up on that little hill.”

“Jim has some of his artwork on the wall there,” Joanna offered, her tone hinting coyly.

“He can barely keep a painting on the wall before someone is making him an offer for it,” Leonard added thickly, understanding his daughter’s intentions. “Yeah, honestly, Jim, the piece you just gave Nyota of the coffeeshop that she hung right on that main wall has got to be one of my favorites. You capture everything just right.”

Jim wanted to kick his friend’s shin to shut him up.

“Mr. Kirk is a hot commodity around here. He’s pretty much a celebrity,” Joanna added, stealing a nut out of his hand and eating it with a grin. Jim shot her a glare.

“Okay, okay. I’m sure Spock doesn’t want to hear anymore about my artwork. And I am _not_ a celebrity. I just know I lot of people.”

“I do not mind. I was unaware I was in the company of such a notable public figure.” Jim could’ve sworn he saw the faintest uptick of the corner of Spock’s mouth. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one to notice.

“Was that a joke, Spock?” Leonard asked, just a hint of incredulity in his tone. Spock completely ignored the question and instead stood and turned to face Joanna.

“Thank you Joanna. I believe we will see each other again in the near future.” Jim’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t want Spock to leave. The evening was simple, but fun and although it didn’t push anything forward, it didn’t throw anything away, either. He wanted to know everything about the Vulcan. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

“Leaving already?” He asked, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice.

“I must retire.” He turned to Leonard, who leaned onto the bar to watch as Spock donned his light coat. “Leonard, I am grateful for your hospitality.”

“Of course. Anytime,” he drawled and shared a look with Joanna.

Spock turned to Jim, addressing him intently. “I am interested in this coffeeshop we spoke of earlier and if you are otherwise unengaged, I would be pleased to have you as company for a morning meal there tomorrow.”

Jim’s brain stalled. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure, that sounds great.”

“What time would you prefer to meet?”

“She opens at seven. Does that work?”

“Affirmative. I will see you then, Jim.” He began to turn and as if remembering something, he quickly turned back. “Leonard, you are welcome as well.”

“I think I have some errands to run in the morning, but if I’m back in time I’ll stop by.”

“Very well. Goodnight.”

The three at the bar watched the Vulcan leave and waited a total of thirty seconds before turning to each other.

“What errands do you have to run tomorrow?” Jim broke the silence first.

“Call my mama, pick up some groceries, swim to England, I don’t know Jim, but I’ll think of something to do.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Jim laughed a little. He had a smile he couldn’t get off his face.

“It means I’ll fly my ass to the moon as a morning errand before I come on your breakfast date. It was a pity invite anyway. He was about to leave, didn’t you see?”

“I’m sure he was being sincere.” Jim insisted, but he knew Leonard was right. At least, he selfishly hoped he was.

“Go have fun with tall, dark, and handsome. I’ll swing by the studio after so you can tell me all about it.”

“I’m sure it’s not a date. He’s just interested in getting to know the town better,” Jim said, but he was still grinning from ear to ear.

“I don’t know, Jim. When I was talking to just him before I brought him to the dock, I asked how you all met and he had some very impressive words for your paintings,” Jo pushed.

“Really?” Hope fluttered in his chest again.

“The words beautiful and unique and resonating were thrown around. I’m not sure I’d believe that Spock uses just any words, either.”

Jim put a hand over his mouth to stop his friends from seeing his smile grow wider. He told himself to reel it in- it could be their imaginations running wild and reading too far into it. He hoped with all his might that they weren’t, but, if anything, he had tomorrow.

“You’ve got it bad, Jim,” Bones joked. Jim gave him a playful shove and they all grabbed their coats to leave.

At least he’d have tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and are always appreciated! I'm hoping the next chapter will be posted much sooner than this one was.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will live in its own little universe: it's as if the Enterprise crew just didn't work on the Enterprise, but the rest of the universe is still more or less in tact. Let me know what you think, comments are always appreciated!


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